


Those Christmas Lights Keep Shining On

by anniebibananie (alindy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8965429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Suburban Christmas, Clarke discovered, was a whole new beast. There was an actual caroling group that had been having rehearsals for a month now. Everyone was attempting to one up each other with their lawn decorations and lights. Which, normally, she wouldn’t have given much thought to, but Bellamy Blake was an asshole she must destroy. or The one where Clarke and Bellamy get in competition over their Christmas decorations and chaos ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This has legitimately been one of the hardest fic writing experiences of my life for some reason, so I would really appreciate some feedback or kudos. I hope you enjoy my fic and I hope you have a lovely holiday!

Clarke isn’t all that into Christmas. For the last few years since her Dad died, it’s just been her and Raven in their apartment, Wells coming over with Monty and Jasper in tow. They ate a lot of pizza and watched a few Christmas movies while they hung out, and that was pretty much it. She called her Mom and Kane and wished them the best and promised to see them around the new year once they got back from the Caribbean. That was that. It was simple and good enough for her.

That is, it _was_ good enough until the advance from her second book was enough for her to buy a house in the suburbs and Bellamy Blake became her next door neighbor.

Suburban Christmas, as Clarke would discover, was a whole new beast. There was an actual _caroling_ group that had been having rehearsals for a month now. Everyone was attempting to one up each other with their lawn decorations and lights. Which, normally, she wouldn’t have given much thought to, but Bellamy Blake was an asshole she must destroy.

“That’s a little harsh,” Wells had remarked as he came over for Sunday brunch. Raven came out from the kitchen with a pile of chocolate chip pancakes that made Clarke salivate at the sight of.

“She’s been going on about this for at least a week,” Raven said.

Clarke speared a pancake from the pile a little too aggressively. “You guys weren’t here when I was moving in. You don’t _know_.”

“I see him almost every day when I leave for work,” Raven said, “he seems plenty friendly to me.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed as she reached across the table and stabbed her fork into Raven’s pancake, taking it off of her plate. “Friendship revoked.”

Wells’ eyebrows raised high on his forehead. “I haven’t seen you this serious since you two planned Finn’s demise.”

Clarke slapped her hand dramatically against the wooden kitchen table. “He was so patronizing, calling me princess and insinuating I needed help to carry my things and making harsh comments about how I must come from money, which is true granted, but I fucking _earned_ this money and-”

“Clarke,” Wells interjected, “breathe.”

“All I’m saying,” she began after a long breath in, “is that I want to destroy his stupid lights with a Christmas display that will bring tears to Santa’s eyes.”

The door swung open, Jasper and Monty rushing in and pulling off their coats and scarves.

“Sorry we’re late, _someone_ ,” Monty said as he nodded pointedly to Jasper, “had to find the perfect danish before we could come.”

“Apology accepted,” Clarke stated brightly, “ _if_ you use your devious minds to help me plan the biggest Christmas takeover ever to hit this neighborhood.”

Wells groaned. “This is going to end horribly, isn’t it?”

Raven reached over supportively, squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll get through this together, honey.”

After breakfast, a brief strategy meaning, and a trip to the Christmas Store, the group found themselves scattered on the front lawn. Clarke placed her hands on her hips, looking at the blank canvas of her and Raven’s shared abode excitedly.

“Ok,” she said, pointing to Bellamy’s house to the right, “they clearly have some nice outlining going on with their lights on the gutter and railing, and they’ve put some twinkling lights up in the trees, but I think we can take it a step further.”

“I’m scared to ask what that means,” Wells said.

“I want to stick to a theme, is that good with you Raven?”

Raven held up her hands in surrender. “This is all you, Griffin.”

Clarke’s smile turned mischievous. “Good. Wells and Raven, could you be on driveway and garage duty? I think we should use those candy cane lights to line the driveway and the red lights to outline the garage.”

Wells and Raven grabbed the appropriate bag before traipsing over to the space, Raven saluting her before turning away. Clarke clapped her hands excitedly as she looked to Jasper and Monty.

“You guys are on roof duty.”

“Suh-weet!” Jasper exclaimed, looking to Monty as they shared in a high five.

“First, I need you guys to put the light-up reindeer and sleigh up and then line the gutter. Can you do that?”

“We’ve got you, commander,” Monty teased, pushing Jasper toward the ladder as they grabbed the appropriate things.

Clarke grabbed a light string of her own to wrap around the porch railing, making it about halfway through before she noticed a figure in the corner of her eye.

“Clarke?”

The perpetrator of the sound was a girl with long, dark hair underneath a black, wool hat. She smiled and waved, and Clarke suddenly remembered seeing her the other day leaving Bellamy’s house with a workout bag thrown over her shoulder. And several more times the past few months, now that she thought of it. Always in movement, though, always going somewhere.

“Hi,” she said timidly, setting the lights down to jog down the steps and move closer. “Do you…” she trailed off, not quite sure her relation or why she was here.

“I’m Octavia, Bellamy’s younger sister,” she answered for her, reaching out a mitten hand to shake. “I saw you guys all out here decorating and thought I’d come introduce myself, offer some help.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, wondering for a moment if this was some kind of trick. Raven and Wells walked over, joining the pair, and Raven hit Clarke’s shoulder lightly.

“She’s not a spy, deep breaths, Griff.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “A spy?”

“Clarke is trying to take down your brother,” Wells answered honestly, shrugging as Clarke sent him a glare.

“It’s not…” she said, trying to defend herself, but the words fell flat.

Octavia shrugged. “It’s cool, I’m in. He’s horribly bad at first impressions, he probably said something super offensive. When Mrs. Sydney moved in down the block she thought Bellamy was trying to steal her dog to sell on the black market because he asked some question about how much she had bought it for.”

Clarke scoffed, the visual of the scene bringing her satisfaction. That totally seemed like something he would do based on her limited interactions with him, not to mention certainly something Mrs. Sydney would think. She could imagine her face, a mixture of fear and disgust.

“Are you single?” a voice came from above, and the group on the ground looked up to see Jasper hanging over the edge of the house, eyes wide.

“Holy shit, back up from the ledge, Jasper,” Raven said.

“Jas,” Monty screamed from above somewhere out of sight, a second later Jasper’s body sliding out of sight most likely at his hands.

“That’s Jasper, he’s an idiot,” Clarke said, “and the disembodied voice was Monty.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” she called up to the roof, “and sorry but I’m pretty seriously taken.”

A curse came from above, Octavia laughing as she turned back to the three in front of her. “This is Wells and Raven,” Clarke said.

The pair gave a brief wave of hello which Octavia returned.

“Well, I’d love to help. Put me wherever you need me, coach.”

* * *

It was only another hour or two before the whole group of them was entirely frozen through, and Clarke deemed the decorations good enough for now. The group threw off their coats as Clarke got the hot water going for hot chocolate, and they convened in the living room as they defrosted.

“Thanks for letting me help you guys,” Octavia said. “We’re still pretty new to the neighborhood, so I don’t have that many friends, yet.”

“Did you guys only move in a little bit before us?” Clarke asked.

Octavia nodded. “Bellamy got a job at the University so we moved in two or so months before you guys did. Which is fine for him, but deciding to switch colleges halfway through and living off campus makes it pretty difficult to make friends. It’s pretty much just been me and Harper. You guys would like her, we should all hangout sometime.”

“I’m sure she’s cool,” Wells said, Raven scooting closer into his side.

“She is,” Octavia replied, “and, believe it or not, so is my brother. If you had met on better terms the two of you would probably be friends, Clarke.”

Clarke snorted. “I highly doubt that."

The doorbell rang and Clarke hopped up, the ring itself shortly followed by several hard knocks on the door. Her gut clenched as she had a sneaking suspicion who was behind that door, and as she flung it open to reveal the devil himself. Her gut clenched tighter.

“Bellamy Blake,” she greeted, her voice steely.

“Princess,” he said with a mocking smile before looking past her entirely, “are you holding my sister hostage?”

“Believe it or not, she’s here by her own free accord.” Clarke reluctantly removed her hand from the door which blocked his path. “Please, do come in and most likely cause me extreme emotional distress.”

“Too kind,” he said, stepping over the threshold and stomping his boots briefly to get off the snow.

Clarke was annoyed as she noticed his curly hair filled with snowflakes that were now rapidly melting, mostly because she couldn’t help the pull in her gut that thought it was cute. He brought a hand up and shook it out, suddenly looking the littlest bit like a wet puppy. Her scowl deepened at the unwelcome thought.

“Octavia! Time to go pick him up!” he called out down the hallway before turning back to Clarke. “I see you have some new decorations out front. You’re really going all out.”

The smile that took over Clarke’s face was almost maniacal. “I just got so inspired by our neighbors and their festive displays. I didn’t want to bring down the festiveness of the neighborhood.”

“It’s cute, you trying to flash the place up.”

“Cute? _Cute_ ?” Her eyebrows furrowed together as a smirk tilted on his lips. She couldn’t help but poke his chest as she took a step closer. “I’m going to _decimate_ your display.”

He bridged the gap between them, biting his lower lip as he examined her face. “We’ll see about that.”

“You guys need to take a breath,” Octavia said as she came through the hallway, the two of them rapidly stepping apart from each other. She grabbed her coat before pulling on her boots. “Thanks for having me over, Clarke, any time you guys want some extra hands to help or are hanging, you know where to find me.”

“No invitation needed, you can come over when-”

“Wait,” Bellamy cut in, “you helped with her display?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and?”

Bellamy didn’t say another word before turning out of the foyer and moving through the door back into the blistery weather. Octavia reached in and gave Clarke a brief hug, apologizing for her brother before joining him outside.

Clarke was getting to him, and it filled her with an energy she had never seen the likes of before. Christmas was _so_ on.

* * *

The next day Bellamy spent three hours out in the front of his house adding more decorations. There were suddenly light nets over his bushes and he wrapped red and white lights around the poles on his porch to make them look like candy canes. At one point a friend of his came to join, and the two of them laughed until they were jittering with cold and found refuge inside. Clarke watched it all from the comfort of her own window, mug of tea in her hands, when she was supposed to be working out the kinks of her newest chapter.

“Clarke, I love you, but you’re obsessed,” Raven said as she fried up some chicken on the stove. “You have a legitimate problem, which I’m sure Wells will confirm for me when he gets here.”

She sighed. “Wells used to always be on my side, then you decided to date him and now you two are always teaming up against me.”

Raven pointed a finger in her direction. “Wells has always been against your bad ideas, don’t shift this blame on me. If anything it’s your fault for having a friend who’s so hot and nice, what did you expect to happen?”

“I didn’t think Wells would be your type, honestly,” Clarke said, “but I’m glad he is.”

A smile played on Raven’s lips that was light and fluttering. Clarke was glad they had found each other, they sure as hell deserved it after all the shit the two of them had gone through before finding each other.

“Have you ever thought that maybe, I don’t know, Bellamy is your type?” Raven asked suddenly.

Clarke gasped. “What are you saying to me right now?”

“I mean, maybe the fact that you guys have been rivals since you moved in is just because you have incredible chemistry and are a little too alike for your own good,” Raven explained.

Clarke narrowed her eyes, hopping down from the counter and landing with a plush sound, her fuzzy socks bracing the jump. “He’s hot, I’ll give you that, but infuriating.”

“Passion is what you speak of,” Raven teased. “Imagine all the hot, intense passionate moments you two could share. You could argue over Christmas decorations then bang to release all the aggression.”

“You’re a madwoman. I can’t listen to this talk. It’s polluting my brain.”

The front door opened and closed, two voices approaching. Wells came in, laughing at something Octavia had said.

“Look who I found at the front door,” Wells said, pointing to Octavia as she smiled.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming unannounced."

Clarke rolled her eyes, reaching out and squeezing her upper arm. “I meant it when I said you’re welcome anytime. We’re a super open house, people are always coming in and out without warning.”

“Thanks,” Octavia began, shifting her eyes to the stove. “I was going to invite you guys over for dinner because my boyfriend is in town, but it looks like you’re already underway.”

“Oh, this? We can save this for later,” Raven said as she already moved to pack it up. “I want to meet your boyfriend way more than I want to eat this chicken.”

“Really? Are you sure?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Of course,” Wells answered. “Should we bring anything over?”

Octavia waved them off. “You don’t need to bring anything.”

“I think we have some seasonal beers in the garage? More alcohol is never a problem,” Clarke said.

“Tell that to Spring Break 2011,” Raven muttered.

“We don’t talk about that,” Clarke warned.

Raven laughed and Clarke left for the garage, rueing the day she ever became friends with Raven in the first place. After grabbing the beers and wrapping herself back up to brace the outdoors for the short walk to the Blake's house, they walked over. The house smelled delicious, better than the chicken Raven had been working on.

It wasn’t until Clarke was standing in the dining room that connected to the kitchen, watching Bellamy drizzle olive oil onto bread while wearing an apron, that she realized just what she had gotten into. For some reason she hadn’t connected the ideas that Octavia’s house and dinner meant Bellamy would be there too, and suddenly the repercussions of her actions were hitting her.

She set the beer on the counter, forcing a smile on her face.

“Bellamy,” she greeted.

“Princess,” he replied, barely looking her way as she set the olive oil down and grabbed the pepper. He cracked it over the bruschetta before looking back up at her. “What? No complaints about how I’m somehow oppressing you today by trying to help?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I noticed you have some new Christmas decorations.”

He shrugged. “Just adding a few things until I’m happy with how it looks.”

“Mmhmm,” she said through a falsely cheery smile.

Octavia looked up as she set the table. “Guys, let’s just put away the muskets for dinner, ok?”

Clarke nodded only after seeing Bellamy do the same. A man entered from the hallway, smiling sweetly at the group of them. He was tall and muscular with a reserved but kind smile. Octavia moved to jump on his back the second he walked through the door, hopping down and fake fighting him as he laughed and swatted away her hands.

“This is the love of my life, Lincoln,” she introduced, “and these are some of my new friends-- Wells, Raven, and Clarke.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He turned sheepishly toward Clarke, looking unsure of whether or not he wanted to say what he was thinking. “Clarke, I’m sure you get this all the time, but… I loved your book.”

“You read it?” Her eyebrows raised and a smile spread across her face, wide and joyful.

He nodded enthusiastically. “You have great narrative, and I loved your main characters, they were so real.”

Clarke turned toward Octavia, laughing underneath her breath. “Your boyfriend is now my favorite person. Lincoln, will you marry me?”

“Hey, Raven and I both read your book, too,” Wells stated. “You didn’t ask for our hands in marriage.”

“Actually, I did,” Clarke replied. “It was after the bottle of champagne and you reminded me that we’re already married.”

“Clarification?” Octavia asked, quirking her head to the side.

“Wells and I have been married since the ripe age of 5, my bouquet was made out of dandelions and my veil of toilet paper. It was beautiful.”

Wells laughed. “Her dad ordained it.”

“He was truly a saint,” Clarke said after a beat. Her voice was fond, and a pang of loss struck her suddenly that, for a moment, she couldn’t seem to shake.

“Dinner is served,” Bellamy loudly interrupted, pushing past them all to set his lasagna on the table. For a moment Clarke was almost grateful just to get away from any discussion of her dad, but Bellamy Blake was still an ass and not worth being grateful for. Even if he was cute and loved his sister and was an amazing cook if the things she was smelling were anything to go by.

Dinner went by in a flash, the food great and the company even better. Bellamy and Clarke sat across each other, only glaring several times. Clarke tried her hardest to not directly converse with Bellamy, she didn’t need to either humanize the devil or start an argument at a dinner that wasn’t about her. By the time they brought the fruit tart out Clarke had nearly forgotten about the feud at all, revelling in Lincoln and Octavia’s well-timed story about how they met.

“Bellamy really did not like me at first,” Lincoln remarked, “but I wore him down.”

“You’re built like a tank, dude,” Bellamy said through a laugh, “it was really intimidating.”

“Plus Bellamy doesn’t tend to like people when he first meets them.” Clarke took a sip from her beer. “Isn’t that right?”

Bellamy’s smile dropped into a semblance of a scowl, sighing in the way only a truly frustrated person would. “Really, princess?”

“Could you stop calling me that, Jesus. And sorry for continually pointing out that you are one of the rudest people I have ever met.”

He smirked, not seeming to be disturbed by her comment. It made her blood boil further. “You’re just channeling your anger into having a shittier Christmas display onto me, it’s fine, you’ll get over it eventually.”

Clarke’s hand clenched into a fist on her lap, her teeth gritting together. She slid her lips into a smile and turned toward the rest of the table. “Thank you so much for having me over for dinner, it was so nice to meet you, Lincoln. Unfortunately, I have a new chapter I’m supposed to send to my editor by midnight so I have to go.”

“Really, are you sure?” Octavia asked, eyebrows pushing together.

Clarke stood up, reaching down and squeezing her briefly from above. “I’ll see you guys later, enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Anger and longing and a slew of emotions Clarke couldn’t seem to find the bottom of intermingled within her, pulsing her back home before any more of them could get the better of her. She did need to work on her novel, but she also needed to plan Bellamy’s demise and sort herself out. Not necessarily in that order, though.

* * *

The next day Clarke heard laughter and clattering loud enough through the window to wake her from sleep. Granted, she really should have been up considering it was around noon, but she had stayed up late to get her chapter done. She peered through the window, noticing Bellamy and his friend standing on the lawn as they waited for a large snowman to inflate.

Clarke took a quick shower, braiding her hair in two plaits before rushing down the stairs. She checked over her phone, noticing Monty and Jasper were on their way to hang out. Monty had promised to read over the first half of her book to fact check and look at pacing, which usually meant that afterward the group of them would end up playing video games and making cookies and/or pizza depending on the mood.

Today, however, it meant that she needed more help decorating.

“Can we be done with this soon, Clarke?” Monty asked upon arrival, rolling his eyes as Clarke didn’t even let him take off his coat before pushing them back out the door. “I love this Christmas spirit and all but it’s been getting _really_ cold.”

“As long as I get to go on the roof again, there are no complaints from me,” Jasper said.

Clarke was nearly shaking with her newfound energy. “We can make that happen, for sure. Just use proper roof etiquette, please.”

Monty grabbed one of the new strings of lights around his arms as they walked outside. “Easy enough coming from the one who doesn’t need to make sure he doesn’t accidentally fall off of that roof he’s so excited about,” Monty muttered as he held the ladder and Jasper excitedly hopped up.

“Hey!” a call came from next door, and Clarke turned to see Bellamy waving with too much enthusiasm. “Back at it, I see.”

A scowl instantly took over her lips. “Christmas is right around the corner. I can’t waste any time.”

Bellamy shrugged, his lips twisting up at that answer. His friend stepped forward, adjusting the beanie on his head. “This is Miller,” Bellamy introduced.

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke said. “Monty and Jasper are on the roof right now.”

“Monty says you’re cute!” Jasper called, a second later a yelp following which Clarke assumed was probably Monty retaliating. “Geez, man, I was just trying to wing man you.”

Miller smiled sheepishly, looking down as he composed himself. Clarke thought by that reaction alone she liked him, that he’d probably mesh with their group and certainly with Monty.

“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” Bellamy asked suddenly.

Clarke bit the inside of her cheek, unsettled by the conversation change. “I’m not sure… why?”

“Octavia is planning a Christmas Eve party, so if you, Raven and Wells, Monty and Jasper up there all want to come she would love it. Harper and Miller will be there, too. Oh, and Lincoln, of course.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you the one asking me this?”

Miller shuffled away, back to the porch where he began futzing with some bags Clarke couldn’t quite see the contents of. Bellamy shrugged, staring at her almost fondly, but more in a “I love messing with you” way and less “I enjoy your presence.” Maybe they weren’t mutually exclusive, she contemplated suddenly, but she shrugged it off as he began speaking.

“Octavia just said if I see you before she does, I should mention it,” he said. “I figured as soon as I started adding decorations outside you would be quick to follow. You’re so set on attempting to one up me, I knew you couldn’t resist.”

Clarke groaned and crossed her arms. “I hate you.” 

He shrugged again, casually, and Clarke hated this new nonchalant attitude he had adopted since dinner last night. “Are you sure that’s it? There isn’t anything else going on?” 

“Yes, positive. Now feel free to go back to your shitty display so I can continue on crafting a display for the ages.” She moved to turn around, but she knew there was no way she would make it before he fired something back.

His eyes rolled high, a scoff puffing from his lips. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Please, _you_ are,” she said, words filled with fire as she approached him. The distance between their chests felt charged, electrified. “I can’t stand you, you’re so infuriating.”

“I’m not the one who instigated all of this, that’s on you,” he flung back.

Clarke’s mouth perched open as she stepped closer, now barely any space separating them at all as she held her finger up ready to poke, but just as she moved a yell came from behind her and she whipped around. Monty had slipped on a patch of ice on the roof and was falling fast. Jasper reached out but wasn’t able to grab on, and Monty rolled over the edge of the roof as a scream ripped from Clarke’s mouth.

He landed in the bushes coated in a thick pile of snow below, a groan instantly erupting from his mouth. Miller arrived first, followed by Bellamy and Clarke. Clarke reached down, eyebrows scrunched together and hands desperately reaching out to check him.

“Oh my god, Monty, are you ok?” Clarke asked, the words all spiraling out in a single breath. A flower of guilt bloomed inside of her, sticking its roots firmly in her stomach.

“I’m never getting on that roof, again.” He groaned. 

Miller’s lips quirked up at the side. “We should take you to the emergency room just to make sure you didn’t fuck your back up or get a concussion.”

Jasper hopped down from the ladder, coming over and offering a helping hand to Miller as they lifted him gently to his feet.

“I’m so sorry, Monty, this is my fault,” Clarke said.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he made his way to the car flanked by the other two men, “just stay here and I’ll come over later to read the draft for you. I’ll be fine, Clarke.”

Bellamy moved to her side, the pair of them watching Monty get ushered into the car before it flew out of sight. Clarke could feel Bellamy’s eyes on the side of her face, but suddenly she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She didn’t want to hear his voice or see his eyes and whether it was pity or spite he was sending her way she couldn’t deal with it. She fled inside, snapping the door closed, and ignored the knock that followed a minute later.

* * *

A few days passed while Clarke stayed holed up in either her room or her office, ignoring everyone to the best of her ability. She made up excuses about deadlines and inspiration strikes that she was sure Raven and Wells didn’t believe, but she didn’t know how to deal with the feelings she had been having. After Monty falling off of the roof, she had felt a mix of guilt and shame. She wasn’t this person, she didn’t even want to celebrate Christmas in the first place. Shutting people out was a lot easier than trying to talk through everything she was feeling, she decided, so she stuck with that.

It was Christmas Eve, though, and Raven wasn’t about to sit around while Clarke stayed hidden in her office. She broke in, finding her staring blankly at a half-filled page. “Come on, Griff, you got to get dressed for the party.”

She snapped out of it, rubbing a hand over her forehead and sighing. “I don’t know if I should go.”

Raven stepped closer, pulling out her extra chair and plopping herself down next to the desk. “Why, Clarke? Monty is fine, he’s not pissed at you. The house looks great, you have friends and family, why wouldn’t you want to get up and go do something fun for Christmas? We never do anything that fun, this could be a good new tradition for us.”

Clarke couldn’t vocalize, though, that she didn’t want a new tradition. She didn’t want traditions, period. The reason lazy Christmas worked was because it wasn’t anything _like_ Christmas. Nothing could compare since her dad died and her life had shifted so radically, so what was the point of even trying? _Christmas_ Christmas was hard for her to face.

“I’m just not much in the Holiday mood, I guess,” she replied. “And I don’t think I have the energy to fight Bellamy tonight. I just don’t.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Well, here’s a novel idea… why don’t you just _not_ fight with him?”

She sighed, realizing there was no way to win this argument. “You guys head over, and I’ll join you shortly… promise. I can’t go over looking like this, though.”

“Pretty yourself up then head over,” Raven said, standing up and kissing the top of her head before moving to the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

It only took Clarke another half hour or so to get herself in ready condition. She was wearing a maroon velvet dress with her hair wild and curly down her back, and despite feeling confident in the way she looked and ready to go, she couldn’t seem to get herself out of the door.

A knock resonated through the main level, and Clarke stood up from the kitchen table to see who it was. She knew it was probably Octavia or Raven trying to wrangle her, but she couldn’t seem to get herself out of the door no matter what she wanted to do.

She flung the door open and there was Bellamy Blake, in a red button up shirt and dark jeans, hair tamed. His forearms peaked out from his rolled up sleeves, flat and broad and Clarke felt her stomach tense. He was too good looking for his own good, and it made her feel unnecessarily warm.

“I would have come, Octavia didn’t need to send you after me,” Clarke said, but the malice she generally reserved for him wasn’t as forceful as it usually was. The usual boil had settled down into a mild simmer.

“She didn’t send me over,” he began, looking at her arm which blocked his path and raising a brow. “Can I come in?”

Clarke stepped to the side, shutting the door softly behind him. “I just had to finish up some things and then-”

“You don’t have to make up excuses, it’s fine,” Bellamy stated. “If you don’t want to come, it’s fine. I know I’ve been an ass to you, I’m not good at making first impressions, but I promise I’ve waved my white flag in honor of the holidays.”

Clarke paused, biting her lip cautiously as she skimmed her eyes over the planes of his face. He looked earnest, and she felt the anger that had been clasped so tightly in her chest release. “The holidays are hard for me is all,” she admitted.

“Why do you think Octavia and I wanted to have a party?” he replied instantly. “It’s easier when you have friends around. Here, come outside for a minute.”

Clarke reached for her coat but he tugged her away, promising it would only be a minute as they hopped down the steps and out onto the lawn. She didn’t know why she followed without question, but the air around them felt so much lighter, so much calmer, that she didn’t think to question it.

They turned toward the houses, lights flashing against their skin. “The decorations are finished,” Clarke said as she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing them to keep them warm. The house looked magical, the red and white twinkling lights looking exactly how she had always wanted them to. The light up reindeers on the roof were all in line, the candy canes lined the driveway. “It looks beautiful. Did you finish them?”

“The gang came together to finish both of the houses,” he replied. “One looks obviously a bit better than the other, but what can you do.”

“You’re right, mine does look so much better,” she said. Clarke shivered, and Bellamy yanked her back inside to the warmth of the house as he emitted a chuckle.

This was supposed to be a joke, she realized, nothing serious. The two of them were just a strange, Christmas rivalry, but at some point she had started to humanize Bellamy Blake. She still found immense joy in claiming her decorations to be the far superior ones, of course, but she also couldn’t help the desire to get to know him. “I think I judged you a little prematurely. I mean, you’re definitely still an ass…”

“I have a good ass?” he joked. “Thanks, princess.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “Please, stop. You’re ridiculous.”

Their eyes met, the space between them so much smaller than Clarke had meant for it to be. That familiar energy between them resurfaced, buzzing around them. Clarke wanted to reach out, like Bellamy was pulling her in with gravitational pull. There was something about him almost like a magnet, something inviting.

“I think you kind of like it."

She scoffed, but the sound died on her lips.

And then before she could even think he was leaning in and she was perching herself up on her toes, tilting her head back, their lips meeting in the middle. For a few seconds it was inquisitive, explorative, before it became almost hungry. Bellamy backed her up until she hit the dinner table, lifting her up so she was up on top of it, him standing between her legs. Heat pooled within her, and she clawed at his shirt and dove her hands into his hair.

“I still kinda hate you,” she whispered as she rested her forehead against his and sucked in a breath.

“That’s fine,” he replied breathily. “We can work on that.”

He leaned further in, crawling up onto the table with her. Clarke laughed between kisses as he trailed his lips from her mouth to her collarbone and neck.

“Merry Christmas, Bellamy."

He pulled back, a smirk on his lips. “My display still won, and it’s not actually Christmas, yet.”

The smile that stretched across her lips was joyful, fresh, real. Starting new traditions had been terrifying her for years, but suddenly she knew there was no way she wasn’t going to try to kick Bellamy Blake’s ass every year she had the chance to. “Not quite… and Merry _early_ Christmas, then.”

“Early Christmas,” he contemplated, smiling down and pushing hair away from her shoulder before lowering and leaving a soft kiss there. “I like the sound of that.”


End file.
